Something Sacred
by Piper Sargasso
Summary: I don't believe in love."


Something Sacred

By Piper Sargasso

Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Chris   
Carter, 1013 Productions and Twentieth Century   
Fox. No infringement intended.  
   
Authors Notes: A haiku written by the very   
talented Toniann inspired this story. Special   
thanks to Char and Philiater for the exceptional   
get-well fics they wrote after I burned my hand   
in an unfortunate cooking incident (LOL!). This   
little bit 'o fluff is for you, girls!   
  
And to Sallie, for being an angel and beta'ing   
this story for me. Godiva showers to you,   
sweetie!  
  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
Something Sacred  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
My lips crush against hers, battling for   
domination. She pushes away.  
  
"I don't need you to prove anything to me,   
Mulder."  
  
But that's just another in a long line of lies she's   
told me in the interest of saving face. I have   
much to prove. You see, I just heard the most   
improbable, most ridiculous thing pour from   
those sweet lips. Something I never thought I'd   
hear –   
  
"I don't believe in love anymore."  
  
I couldn't bear it, not coming from her. There   
has to be something sacred left in this   
godforsaken world.   
  
"Unacceptable," I answered roughly, and crossed   
the room to pull her into my arms before she had   
a chance to yank herself away. She looked   
frightened, stunned; God help me, aroused.  
  
I look down into her determined face with   
determination of my own. She shrinks under my   
gaze and looks away.   
  
"You're wrong, Scully." I take a step forward;   
she takes a step back.   
  
Shaking her head, she looks everywhere but at   
me. "This is crazy. It doesn't make a difference   
anyway."  
  
Step forward; step back.   
  
"You're so wrong, it's not even funny." I   
respond. I don't recognize my own voice,   
drenched as it is in unguarded emotion. How can   
she not know?   
  
"Look, Mulder," she begins shakily. "This is   
very personal, okay? I never should've brought it   
up. Just forget it."  
  
I shake my head slowly, tilting her chin up to   
force her to look at me.   
  
Step forward; step back.  
  
"Sorry, partner. Can't do that."   
  
She gasps as her back makes contact with the   
wall.   
  
"You see, it's not that easy." I trace a finger   
along her jaw line, thrilling at the shiver she   
can't hide at my touch. "I won't accept that from   
you."   
  
I bend to taste of her creamy neck, shaking in   
response to her hitched breathing. "Wh-what?"   
she gasps.   
  
My kisses become wetter as I trail them to the   
hollow of her throat; the pale shoulder I expose   
to the cool air. I want to taste every blessed inch   
of this woman, need to savor her flavor as if my   
very life depended on it. She's my one true   
obsession. My addiction.   
  
Slowly, I unbutton her shirt, revealing perfectly   
rounded breasts above the black fabric of her bra.   
I sample the silken texture of them, pushing her   
shirt away to hang at her sides. Her back arches,   
pushing her into me as I nip and tug at the taut   
nipples beneath the slip of lace and satin.  
  
"What are you doing to me?" She asks   
breathlessly.   
  
Nothing, Agent Scully, if not claiming what is   
mine; what has always been mine.   
  
She's a wanton siren, azure eyes blazing beneath   
the thick blackness of her lashes; ripe, berried   
lips parted in invitation as she breathes   
erratically. I can almost hear her silent question –   
"Why now?" can almost taste the intense   
anticipation. It's palpable. She slides against the   
wall; up, down, striving to grind herself against   
the groin that presses just a bit higher than where   
she needs it.   
  
I roughly jerk her skirt up, bunching it around   
her waist. She cries out from the shock, and her   
eyes glow darker, needier. I reach down to pull   
off her panties and unzip my slacks.   
  
Running a finger down the warm valley between   
her breasts, feeling the wild palpitation of her   
heart, I lean in to nuzzle at her ear.   
  
"Deny it, Scully," I whisper.   
  
She shivers.  
  
"Mulder . . ."  
  
"Deny it. Deny what you know is real. Tell me   
you don't believe in love. Tell me and I'll make   
this stop, if that's what you want. Because I've   
been trying to remember a time when I didn't   
love you."  
  
Her lower lip quivers.  
  
"I- I can't."  
  
I can't help the sigh of joy that spills into her ear.   
Lifting her from her high-heeled stance to wrap   
her legs around my waist, I'm amazed by how   
light she is. How her legs seem to have already   
found a natural groove around my body. She   
snakes one slender arm around my neck, one to   
clutch around the wall dividing my rooms.  
  
When I enter her, it's almost more than I can   
bear. She's so warm, so incredibly slick. We   
move erratically, desperate to absorb every   
second of this perfection, aching to pull each   
other in. Her heels dig into my lower back and   
her hands scrabble for better purchase on the   
wall behind us.  
  
In a great gasp, she comes, shuddering against   
me as her inner walls tighten. I follow close   
behind.   
  
She's limp against me, both of us struggling for   
breath. I kiss her damp neck and slide us to the   
floor, cradling her in my lap.   
  
"Now, about that statement; your 'I don't believe   
in love any more . . .'"  
  
"Mulder," she interrupts. "I want to believe."  
  
  
  
~ The End ~  
  
  
  
  
Additional Note: Below is the beautiful haiku   
written by Toniann, which was the inspiration   
for this little story ~   
  
I dare you: deny  
how your blood burns hotter when  
my skin touches yours  
  
  
Isn't that lovely?  
  
  



End file.
